


Dad Does It Better

by ObsidianRomance



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Kid Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-17
Updated: 2013-09-17
Packaged: 2017-12-26 22:03:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/970776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ObsidianRomance/pseuds/ObsidianRomance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam's kids aren't thrilled with their dinner.  Dean knows exactly why.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dad Does It Better

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: SCHMOOP, kid!fic (it can be mpreg or whatever you want it to be. In my head it is mpreg!Sam)  
> Disclaimer: I don't own these characters. I am just playing.

The little boy toyed with his food before making a lackluster stab at it.  Chewing for a moment, he wrinkled his nose and curled his lip, letting his distaste be known as he made an effort to swallow.  “This tastes funny,” he whined and pushed the fork away.

Sam sighed and gave up on trying to feed the little girl on his lap.  Now that her brother had quite obviously gotten his opinion across, there was no way his daughter was going to open her mouth.  “Why does it taste funny?”

Putting his palms up, the boy shrugged.  “I dunno.  It tastes better when dad makes it.”

Dad was Dean and macaroni and cheese was one of his few contributions to feeding their kids.  Tonight, however, Dean was working late and Sam was the one left trying to fulfill his children’s pleas for mac-n-cheese.

Sam had no idea how he had become the one who figured out how to feed all four of them, considering he and Dean had pretty much the same level of culinary skills going into this parenting gig.  Their poor children had been the victims of many a failed meal, but Sam was figuring out how to make something that didn’t come from a can or a takeout container.  Usually it worked.  Usually his kids were good eaters who would rather scarf down their meal and go back to playing.

Tonight, they were at a standoff.

Grabbing his son’s fork, Sam speared a spiraled pasta and tasted it for himself.  “It tastes fine.”

“Nuh uhh.  It tastes all dry and stuff.  Dad makes it better.”

“What do I make better?”  Dean walked in on the tail end of his son’s words and ruffled the boy’s hair.

Tried from his day and not looking forward to force feeding his kids, Sam rolled his eyes.  “That.”  He pointed to the bowl of pasta.  “Apparently only you can make mac-n-cheese in this household.”

“Why?  What’d you do to it?”  Dean pinched a macaroni between his fingers and popped it in his mouth.  He furrowed his eyebrows and spoke with his mouth full.  “You didn’t put enough butter.”

“Of course I did.  I put exactly the amount the box asked for.”

“That’s the problem.  I usually double it.”  Dean grabbed the bowl in one hand and headed towards the refrigerator, pulling out the butter.

“ _Double_?”  Sam’s mouth hung open in disbelief while he glared in disbelief at his brother.

“Yeah, double,” Dean said a-matter-of-factly.  “Everyone knows it tastes better that way.  Plus, the kids actually eat it.”

“Yeah, but _double_?  Are you serious?  No wonder they like it.”  Sam scoffed and shook his head.  Giving their kids extra butter wasn’t the end of the world but Sam had taken some type of stand to give their son and daughter healthy meals.  He gave Dean a side smirk.  “Butter?  That’s your secret?”

Dean threw his brother a cocky grin.  “Butter is always my secret when I’m cooking.  I leave all the really hard stuff to you.”  He made quick work of adding more butter to the bowl and tossed it in the microwave for thirty seconds before stirring it again.  “The microwave ruins it but this should be better.  What do you think, buddy?”  He held a macaroni out to his son.

The boy grabbed it with a skeptical look on his face but as he chewed it his eyes lit up and he nodded enthusiastically.  “Better!”

Dean turned to Sam with a “told you so” look on his face.  He got on one knee in front of Sam and his daughter.  “Here, princess.  You wanna try too?”

The pint-size girl nodded and made grabby motions towards his father.  He let Dean give her a forkful of macaroni and smiled, speaking with her mouthful and looking more like Dean than ever before.  “Yummy.”

While Dean divvied up new dinner portioned of the remedied macaroni and cheese on the kids’ dinner plates, Sam couldn’t feel anything but amusement.  “Don’t look so proud of yourself.”

Dean pointed a cheesy serving spoon in Sam’s direction.  “Hey!  You get to do this all the time.  You get to make sure they’re still alive and kicking.  Let me have this moment of being their hero.”  His words were held back a hint of something deeper.

“You’re always their hero,” Sam said in earnest.  He meant it.  He hadn’t realized Dean may have been feeling like he wasn’t as pivotal to their children’s lives as he actually was

“Damn right.  If it wasn’t for me you would be shoving that lame ass version of macaroni and cheese down their throats.”  Dean smirked.  “Now eat some dinner, Sammy.  And don’t you dare bitch about the butter.”  He pushed a bowl of the pasta towards Sam.

“Wouldn’t dream of bitching.”  Sam smiled and took a forkful.  Dean was right, it tasted better this way.  It was just another thing to add to the long list of things his brother had taught him.


End file.
